


400 Dollar Question, The

by Shadowplay



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-05
Updated: 2002-02-05
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowplay/pseuds/Shadowplay
Summary: Mulder's plans for the evening are interrupted by his partner and his boss.





	400 Dollar Question, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

400 Dollar Question, The

## 400 Dollar Question, The

#### by cdavis

Title: 400 Dollar Question, The  
Author: cdavis  
Feedback to:   
Author's Website: http://cdavis.slashcity.net/  
Status: Complete  
Category: Unclassified  
Pairing (Primary): Unclassified  
Pairing(s) (Secondary):   
Crossover Fandom (if any):   
Crossover Info (if any):   
Other Pairing Info:   
Rating: NC-17  
Spoilers:   
Permission to Archive:   
Series or Sequel/Prequel:   
Notes:   
Warnings:   
Disclaimer:   
Summary: Mulder's plans for the evening are interrupted by his partner and his boss.

The $400 Question  
by cdavis 

There was a knock and Skinner glanced at his watch in disbelief. It was after 10. Usually, he could count on being undisturbed at this time on a Friday night. He slipped his photo of Fox Mulder back into place under the pencil organizer in his top drawer before getting up to answer the door. "Agent Scully," he acknowledged as fireflies of dread flickered on and off in his brain. 

"Sir, I need your help...." As she spoke she toyed unconsciously with a folded piece of paper. 

"Agent Mulder?" he guessed and the lightning bug problem was compounded by butterflies in his stomach. 

"I think he's putting himself in grave danger." 

He nodded, feeling an incipient headache and an intense need for a can of insecticide. 

"Tonight. At an abandoned warehouse. The address is here." She handed him the paper and he stared at it quizzically. "Mulder does origami," she explained. 

//Of course he does.// "And you need my help, how?" he inquired, dismantling the paper crane and wondering why Scully had bothered to refold it after reading it. 

"Back-up, Sir. I'm sure he's in trouble. He left the office at 5 and I haven't heard from him since." She sounded genuinely worried but then, she always did when she came into his office. 

He frowned slightly. "Does Agent Mulder normally check in with you on his own time?" He wasn't sure why but the idea was vaguely disturbing. 

"He went off without telling anyone." She was, he knew, practiced at deflecting. 

"I see." He didn't see but it appeared that was all the explanation he was likely to get. "Why have you come to me?" 

"I was hoping you'd hit him over the head with a 2x4 when we found him, Sir." 

Before answering, he drew out the silence just long enough for her to think he was going to turn down her request. Sometimes he really did enjoy making one, or both, of these two sweat. "We'll take my car," he agreed curtly, reaching for his jacket. Yes, he'd like to see Mulder's face when he was caught in the act. In truth, he admitted to himself, he just enjoyed seeing Mulder's face. 

* * *

The two of them crept past Mulder's car which was parked out front beside a Jeep Cherokee with DC tags. The warehouse lights were on and the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. There was definitely noise coming from inside and it sounded very much like Mulder, although the words weren't clear. At his nod they readied their weapons and slipped inside. 

He could hear Mulder more clearly, words punctuated by moans and groans and grunts. There were two other voices, talking over each other. 

"No, I won't tell you" "You'll talk. By the time we're finished with you, you'll be begging to tell us." "You can't make me talk. I'll see you in Hell first." "We want the secret formula!" 

//Secret formula? What the hell?// He was getting a very bad feeling about this. Leading the way he ran in a crouch, concealed behind a double high line of packing crates, stopping at the end of this makeshift hallway to reconnoiter. 

"We can last longer than you can. You'll be singing like a bird soon." "Not once my...oh, damn...partner gets here. She'll...ungh...hunt you down and kill you...oh, GOD!" "That'll teach you not to threaten us." "Yeah, we don't like punks like you threatening us." 

"We have to move. They're torturing him, Sir." The large blue eyes radiated tension and distress. 

//Where are they getting that dialogue? Damn amateurs.// Gesturing for her to remain down, he straightened up to peer cautiously over the top skid. What he saw confirmed his suspicions and he dropped back down behind their cover. "I'm not sure how to tell you this," he began in a low voice which, for some reason, seemed to galvanize the redhead. "Wait!" he ordered, making a grab for her trenchcoat, but the small woman dodged him and raced by. He holstered his gun then stood to his full height, resting his folded arms on the chest high crate. 

"FBI!" Scully shouted, rounding the corner, weapon drawn and ready. He watched with a certain amount of amusement as she came to a stop and the color drained from her face. "Mulder? Oh. My. God." 

"Oh, SHIT!" Mulder shrieked, head jerking up to stare at his partner then whipping back farther over his shoulder to see him. He gave his subordinate a little wave. "YEOW!" Mulder added as the man behind him pulled back, and out, too quickly. 

"You are sooooooooo busted, baby," the blond man who had been holding Mulder's shoulders down to the exercise mat laughed, sitting back on his heels and giving the leather jacketed back a sympathetic pat. 

The sound of his leather soles on concrete was unnaturally loud as he proceeded to where a kneeling and half dressed Mulder was still bent forward with his hands tied behind his back. A belt lay coiled nearby, explaining the agent's painfully red butt. He was used to Mulder getting himself into unlikely situations but this was one for the books. He wished he had a camera. "Agent Mulder, what are you doing?" he asked, rhetorically. 

The blushing man who, if the test results in his personnel file were to be believed, was a genius blinked up at him and replied "Uhhhhhhh...." 

He picked up the belt from the floor and dangled it in front of Mulder's face and raised an eyebrow for an explanation. The recipient of his silent interrogation only lowered his head and attempted to bury his nearly crimson face in the mat. 

"Does he belong to you?" asked the bearded man who, so recently, had been groin deep in Mulder's ass. 

He frowned at the insulting question. If Mulder belonged to him none of them would be in this warehouse. 

"Well, you two startled me. And...and the rubber ripped when I pulled out," he groused, probing Mulder and trying -but not succeeding - to get a grip on the bit of latex left behind. "And he's bleeding a little bit back here...." 

"Everybody! Just go away!!!" the bound agent yelled, as he tried to scuttle away from the attentions of the man behind him. "No, wait! Somebody untie me first...," he pleaded, his voice tinged with panic. 

"Mulder??" Scully finally holstered her weapon. "If you need....I mean, my bag is in the car...." She sounded as if she were given the choice of doing that or dancing naked around the Washington Monument she'd be headed back to DC right now. 

Skinner knelt by Mulder's side and began untying his wrists. "I never thought I'd say this, but you are a moron," he muttered. 

Mulder avoided his gaze and addressed the blond who was watching the scene with amusement. "Where are my pants?" 

"Hey, Frank. Toss me a towel. I need to clean him up," the bearded man called to his companion. 

When freed Mulder swiveled around on his knees to cut off any further suggestions by grabbing the man by the throat. "Stop helping me!!!" 

Skinner grabbed Mulder's wrists and, with little effort, pulled the man's hands from the stranglehold. Mulder's target rolled away and wisely put some distance between them. He was intrigued when, in response to a tightening of his grip, his captive pressed back against his chest. He felt a surge of pleasure in the surrender and was tempted to bend the man over and go spelunking in search of the missing latex. "Stop that," he ordered before releasing him. 

"Here," the blond man interrupted, tossing the pair of jeans over Mulder's head to distract him. "See ya next month." 

Grabbing the jeans with one hand and holding them in front of himself in a fit of belated modesty, Mulder gestured with the other. "Next month? But - but - these people were just leaving," he promised, a note of whining in his voice. 

Scully came over and ran her fingers briefly through his hair. "You're pathetic," she murmured, slowly shaking her head. 

"We're outta here, man," the blond assured him. "Working with an audience is extra." 

"Terrific," the agent muttered in a resigned tone of voice and accepted a hand up to gain his feet. 

"Better pick a different place." 

"A different place. Right," he nodded, shaking out his pants and stepping into them. 

"Where are your...?" Scully prompted. 

"I didn't wear any," he growled irritably as he slid a hand down his front for protection as he zipped up. 

"You be a good boy, now." The recently choked man warned, picking up the discarded belt and threading it through the loops of his own pants. 

"Oh, shut up." 

* * *

Something small and white, curled up at the base of skid, caught Skinner's attention. Upon closer examination, it turned out to be a sock. //No neater here than in his apartment. Why should I be surprised?// It seemed as if his entire life now revolved around cleaning up after Mulder. He picked it up and brought it back to it's owner, placing it in Mulder's hand to avoid interrupting the ongoing argument. 

"Mulder, why did you drag us out here? Was it to embarrass me?" Scully asked, crossing her arms in irritation. 

"Drag you?" he demanded, trying to stand on one foot while tugging on his sock. "Embarrass you?? What were you doing? Following me around hoping for a thrill?" 

He found the second sock among a collection of recently emptied beer bottles. Miller Lite. He hoped his agent hadn't brought those along, he had to have more taste than that. He captured an outflung arm, without effecting a pause in Mulder's rant, and slapped the clothing article into his hand. Then went in search of the missing sneakers. 

"I've got better things to do than follow you around. And as for a thrill, ha. I heard you on the phone talking about a meet tonight at a warehouse. And I found the address taped to the underside of the second drawer of the filing cabinet." 

"What were you doing looking there? How did you know....?" The agent stared down at his hand as if in a quandary caused by the sudden appearance of another piece of footwear. 

"Think logically, Mulder. Why would you put something you didn't want me to see in a place you didn't think I knew about unless you wanted me to find it?" 

"Oh, how silly of me. I should have left it in plain sight." The sock was drawn on to it's proper place. 

He had let the two hiss and spit at each other long enough. "Agent Mulder, is this," he gestured to encompass the warehouse and the events that had taken place, then handed him a shoe, "something you wanted me to know about?" Since the dark haired man seemed reluctant to sit on the floor or a pallet, he lent an arm for balance as the running shoe was pulled on. 

"I don't even know what hell you two are doing here! I don't recall sending out engraved invitations to watch me get fucked! Oh, excuse me, Sir." 

"Him? What about me?!" 

"Sorry, Scully. Not interested. Listen, do you have any idea what one of these sessions costs? I'm out $400, and I didn't even get off. Although, the look on your face...." He pointed at Scully and giggled. "Maybe it was worth it." 

"You have no idea," Skinner agreed, providing the last of the gathered apparel. He was already coming up with ways to save the agent money in the future. Maybe even next month. But not in a warehouse, he decided. Beds were so much more comfortable. He knelt down for a few moments and tied the laces of the Nikes before the man tripped over them and killed himself. 

"Well, frankly Mulder, this has been a disappointing experience." 

Mulder eyed her, cautiously, hands on hips. 

"I thought you were better hung." 

"Oh, well, thank you very much...." An Olympic caliber pout was adorning the mouth that was just made for that sort of thing. 

"Even I have more balls than you do, partner," the petite woman stated, not unkindly. 

Skinner nodded to himself, having thought the same for years. He then decided to break the tension between his two agents with some words of advice. "I think you should seek medical attention," he suggested, to Mulder, "before you end up with your ass in a sling." 

"I'll take that under advisement, Sir," he nodded. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I want to be alone." 

Skinner followed as Mulder, with as much dignity as he could muster, exited the warehouse. He watched the man open the trunk of his car and remove a pillow, which he placed on the driver's seat, then drive off into the night. "Mulder is...." There were so many ways to end that sentence that he simply left it unfinished. 

"Yeah," she agreed, a smile playing around her lips. "Isn't he?" 

End 

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